good stuff

sweetness

April 12, 2011

I am seriously going to do my best not to spew exclamation points all over this page, but. You Guys!!!!!! Guess what. Free-er. Because I just noticed something, I have tototally stopped saying “it’s ok” when I’m talking to people about my story and they look at me with little bits of sadness and sympathy and say “I’m sorry”. I just noticed last night. I had this sweet conversation with a new friend, she shared some of her story, I shared some of mine and when she said “I’m sorry” and I just said "thanks" and we moved on. And it. Was. So. Cool.

This little (big? neverending?) process I’m in feels so good. This leaning and trusting feels so good. This allowing myself some space and grace feels... amazing (!!!!!!!!)

Fancy Nancy told a little story at Pink Impact (!!!!!!) about sitting in her counselors office and telling him it was ok when he cried through stories of her childhood. And, ha, that is exactly what I did with her, well with lots of people really. Ask me about my childhood, my marriage, my divorce and I will give you a straight up answer. I will be honest and real with you about how rough it was. And then I will try to make it ok. Well I used to. But I’m done with that, which kind of feels awesome (!!!!!!!)

I got the privilege of getting to serve at a Freedom training a couple of weeks ago and getting to hear Alan Smith teach. And then we did a little (big? awesome?) exercise. And you guys- I cried. It was super. I’m terrible at crying. Really, it’s not my thing. It’s reeeeally hard for me to do. But this cry did not swallow me up or crush me. It was a releasing kind of cry, a feeling hurt and letting it go kind of cry. And it wasn’t even awful, it was kind of nice actually, helpful for sure.

Finding grace for me is most probably the hardest thing for me to do. I am a “get over it and move on” kinda girl. I am so, so tough on me, but being tough on me is not helpful and the perfectionism that sneaks in when I let it is quite honestly so much more than annoying.

And so, I am happy with not making things ok, for me or anyone else. It is not my job to make my past ok. Phew (!!!!!!!!) I don’t even know how to explain how much weight has been lifted off (and now I’m crying again).

March 28, 2011

Warning: This post is rant-y and wrought with generalizations. Oh well. In no way am I professing to have this all figured out. But, I have observed a few things.

Men, I love you. Really I do. And I hate to throw in a “but”, ahem… but… Maybe it is just my own misfortune, maybe it’s this Fatherless Generation of ours, I dunno, but I feel so often like a truckload of Peter Pans has been dumped into our society. It’s not even about the video game obsessions; it’s the general skirting of personal responsibility and feeling that the world owes you something. It totally doesn’t.

And women, I love you too, in an entirely different fashion sure, but love nonetheless. Ladies, can we stop this giant pendulum that keeps swinging from being fully dependent on men to discarding them completely? Honestly, there is nothing wrong with desiring a man, you were created to actually, desperate is ugly though, and danergous. And there is nothing wrong with being strong and independent, but there is no need to toss aside femininity and despise any and every male.

And my gosh, it doesn’t help that we are all entirely oversexed. Like, it is every-freaking-where. All the time. And it’s expected. All the time. Ugh. Look, I get it, it’s the bees knees right? Yeah. But it has an ordained context. It is not a tool of manipulation to get or keep a relationship. It is not a good way to pass the time on date number three. Gosh. You know what? Guys, don’t expect it, don’t push it. And maybe ladies, stop giving it out like it’s a hug.

I want… ha, I want a lot of things. But mostly I want to call us all to a higher standard. Can we raise the bar a little please? Women, can we hope for Something More for ourselves? Can we expect love and give respect, ask for commitment before we give ourselves physically? And men, will you set aside your appetite for instant gratification? Will you allow yourselves to be called to greatness?

Look, I say all of these things while working on my own issues and with full awareness that nobody is perfect and we are all in process. I say all of these things in love, knowing that there are plenty of men and women out there that these statements do not apply to. I would like, (love) to be married again someday and honestly, I don’t refuse to compromise, but I do refuse to settle. Our generation entitled and materialistic though it may be, is also wise, resourceful and strong; and I believe in Us. And yes, some of you men are certainly a scary combination of overbearing and underachieving. But some of you are an awesome combo of compassionate and powerful. Ladies, yes some of us are desperate beyond comprehension and bitter to the core. But we were made to be full of passion and wonder and grace and strength and tenderness.

My heart breaks that so many miss the beauty of relationship and what God has for them. We might have few good examples, there are some though. The Bible is a pretty good starting point. Understanding your identity is key, and learning about God’s heart is the best way to do that. And yes we live in a fallen, broken world, but we make our own choices. We can choose to spend time with people who are good examples. We can choose to learn and grow and let Him change us.

I had dinner with Ron and Nancy a few weeks ago and it was lovely of course. The cool thing was, they’ve been married for 37 (!!!) years and he did not stop complimenting her the whole night except to listen to how her day went and kiss her a couple of times. I sat humbled with a goofy smile on my face, happy to hear such kind affirming words poured out in such love. Finally Nancy said (grinning from ear to ear and eyelashes batting as usual) “Honey, that’s all very nice, thank you, but I don’t think we want to make Amber sick.” My reply, “No, let him go on, please. He is raising the bar. Let me believe that there are men out there like him. And couples that end the day like this.”

I know that it is easy to give in to the temptation to be nothing more than a product of our environment. But also, I know that there is Greatness in everyone. No generation, no sex, no one is beyond redemption. We can overcome the struggles of our past. We can rise above heartbreak that threatens to crush and fear that threatens to suffocate. We can raise the bar for ourselves and future generations. I believe we can find and grasp So Much More. And I hope we will.

March 11, 2011

It occurred to me the other day while writing about hearing from God that maybe some of you might not know what I mean, and maybe some of you might want to know what I mean. And there are tons of resources out there for you, I will link plenty, promise. But also, I will tell you a little about what I mean when I say I hear from Him.

As I’ve said before, it seems to me that I have known Him to be in me, outside of me, caring for me since… forever. Honestly, I don’t have a great explanation of that except to say that during some rather traumatic instances in my childhood I experienced Peace and Love.

Someone asked me recently about my first experience of hearing God. I believe it was when I was about five years old. My mom, sisters and I lived in a tiny apartment in the projects. We were po, couldn’t even afford the last half of the word. I had this beautiful white canopy bed with a pink gingham top though. I’m not sure where it came from, but I know the mattresses came from beside the dumpster. Anyway, I remember God speaking to me in that big beautiful bed one night. He said “I love you” and I said “I know.” I would like to say that I remember saying I love you too. I’m fairly certain I did, maybe. But I digress…

Church and religion were not a huge part of my childhood, Jesus was though. We attended a few different denominations, mainly Nazarene and Baptist, very sporadically. Somewhere along the way I picked up the “Jesus Loves me this I know” concept and never let go. I believed because... because I needed to. He felt real, was, is to me. (So much so that when my sisters and I eventually ended up living in West Texas with my aunt and uncle and going to a tiny little Church of Christ, I found myself totally baffled and a little bit heartbroken that the sweet people in church there didn’t believe that He walked and talked with them. Lucky me, I found a Vineyard Church not long after we moved back.) Digressing… again…

Hearing God is more like experiencing God for me. It's more like connecting with His presence than simply hearing Him. I’ve never heard His audible voice. He often shows me things, pictures or visions in my head. He sometimes highlights things around me, or words. Occasionally He will download a thought, a concept or an idea into my head… It doesn’t always or even usually happen at church. Sometimes in my car, or in the shower, in bed, while I’m doing dishes and yes, sometimes when I’m praying.

How do I know it’s Him? That’s kind of what I mean when I say it’s an experience for me. Generally if He says or shows something, there is a feeling of great peace or maybe excitement. Sometimes there is unexplained warmth. Because when He speaks, things happen andatmospheres change.

When I first started trying to understand hearing God I was told, (by I can’t remember who, maybe Heather? Whoever it was, thank you!) that if I heard something especially wise or encouraging, it was probably ok to go ahead and assume that was God. He doesn’t say things that aren’t Loving. I’m not saying He doesn’t say things that are hard, He is always Loving though. So sometimes I get words, or unexplainably understand concepts, or inexplicably see things. I feel Him, but also, I know Him because I seek Him. That’s my best explanation. Check out the links at the bottom for a better one.

Recently someone said “Wow you are really tuned in” when I shared something He said. Another friend said “So what? Like, you just go around praying all the time?” It’s not that I’m praying constantly, though maybe I should. It’s more like an ongoing conversation that we have. Because that’s what He wants. Because that’s what I want. Because I am grateful for all He has done for me. Because He has saved my life so literally many times. Because He is gracious and merciful and unfailing. Because I have experienced the sheer wonder of His great Love through a few awesome encounters, I do my best to follow Him, turn to Him, look for Him and hear Him.

My best advice for how to do that is to get still, get as quiet as you can and listen. Doing this is something in the middle of really easy and very hard. He speaks and He created us with the ability to hear Him. This world is kind of a mess though, even on good days life gets in the way. I get that. My mind is cluttered to say the least. Usually before I can calm myself and stop running through to-do’s, I have to make a list. Getting it out on paper helps me focus on Him. Also, I’ve been known visualize myself in my own mind, pushing away all the clutter and boxes that crowd the space He should be in. Hey whatever works right?

This is the thing, He loves you. He created you. He wants to meet with you. And His words will do So Much More than anyone else’s. Listen to Him. And I pray that you will hear Him. Let Him whisper, let Him illustrate, let Him show you Love. Finding time and space and having the ability to quiet the busyness of our minds can seem impossible. I promise you though- It is so worth it.

March 06, 2011

Sometimes when the shutter clicks I know I’ve captured something, a glimpse of something amazing. Sometimes there is a wonderful exchange that happens. The person in front of the camera decides that they trust the person behind the camera enough to be… open, bold, vulnerable, humble, real… themselves. And the person behind the camera, (that’s me, I have the best job in the whole entire world!) gets to capture that essence, honor it and show the world how beautiful it is. If it is a really great exchange though, there is a glimpse of Something More.

This magic little exchange has a few key elements. Trust is one, easy enough to understand I guess, a person needs to be able to trust me if they’re going to be all figuratively naked in front of my lens. This exchange also takes belief, at the very least a momentary awareness of the wonder that is the inherently universal and innately unique beauty inside. And this exchange, if it is a really great one, involves not just my spirit seeing somebody else’s- if we allow space, it involves the One who created the moment.

Recently I had the privilege of photographing four amazing women. They all came with their own stories of redemption, ready and willing to sit right in front of my lens and be themselves. And we all intentionally made room for Him to shine during the session. It was spectacular. The whole shoot was full of honesty and creativity. Each of them bared part of themselves, shared pieces of their hearts. And boy did He show up.

And fine I will go ahead and say it, one of these women was especially, well, uniquely I’ll say, inspiring. She is a New Friend. I don’t know her super well but I know that she is a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and a really great hugger- an extraordinary women as far as I can tell. Also she is an extremely gifted storyteller. The best thing about her though- she knows who she is and Who’s she is.

I don’t know her entire journey to Freedom. But I know that the smile on her face is that of a woman who knows her Father is the King. And the light in her eyes is that of a woman who believes she is Loved beyond measure. Momentary or not, in this hundredth of a second, she was exquisitely, supremely herself and openly, humbly His all at the same time. And as the shutter was clicking my heart saw it, knew what Freedom looked like. To call it inspiring would be an understatement.

Coincidence maybe that this also happens to be the woman who taught the first Freedom class I ever attended. She told me (and a whole room full of people actually) the story that began to help me Think Differently. My journey to Freedom got fast-tracked that night with the Tale of the Acrobat. I thought initially that this photo was maybe just special to me because of that coincidence. I think maybe there is Something More to it though.

Sure, this magic exchange has happened plenty of times before and after I even knew what Freedom Ministry was. And sure, I’ve photographed people who’ve known what their True Identity was. There was something about this glimpse though… Her Freedom and Beauty is emerging more and more, no doubt. And as they say, "Free people free people". And I guess my definition of Freedom has changed. So this exchange was a clearer picture of Freedom than what I’ve seen before.

Most of the time if I really get somebody, really capture their essence, it is a child. I have few photos of adult’s boldly staring into my lens and baring bits of their soul. And even fewer photos of people with glimmers of Freedom shining in their eyes. They say that the photographer can be seen in every photo every photo they take. Maybe the special thing about this photo is that there are three storytellers in it. There is me doing my best to tell a story with my camera. There is my New Friend telling some of her Freedom story. And there is God telling His very big Freedom story.

I wish I had a few perfect words to wrap around why this capture is so extraordinary. Instead I have lots of imperfect ones, and a heart that desires even more than it did before to be Free-er.

February 28, 2011

You have probably heard me say that Griffen is my quirkiest child. This is true, he is about as different as different can be. Griff is his own little man, always has been. His brain works overtime, and from the outside his thoughts seem quite random. To call him an independent thinker is an understatement. He is something like hyper, just busy I guess, and smart as whip but unconventional as heck. His cleverness often comes across as arrogance and his internal processing makes him seem aloof.

When he started Kindergarten his teacher had him tested for both ADHD and dyslexia. He’s a brilliant kid though, so he passed both tests with flying colors. Honestly it left us all a little unsure about what to do with his inventive but off track mind, enormous appetite for information and constantly moving body.

My heart soared and sank all at once. The first thing I thought was “Awesome, I get to raise a little Edison!” the second thing was, “Great, he’s not going to grow out of all this off track, out of the ordinary stuff.” That was five years ago. And he certainly has not grown out of it. He has sort of grown into it. I’ve implemented some of the boundaries, behavioral and dietary suggestions recommended for Edison Trait kiddos, and that has certainly helped.

But the thing that has helped the most has been to really embrace what a unique kid he is. He is fully entertaining and extremely bright. And as he is maturing, our conversations are more and more enlightening. He’s a vocal kid, in touch with his emotions and his vocabulary is endless. His invention notebooks take over an entire bookshelf. This year he was fortunate enough to get an amazing teacher. I’m forever getting notes that say “I so enjoy Griffen!” and “What an awesome kid!” It’s been sweet for sure to see him blossom and develop as he’s been not only accepted but affirmed by the people around him.

So often in the past my fear has been that he would get lost in all the Go Go Going! Of his mind. It can be a challenge for him to relate well to others because he is so internally busy. My heart has ached for him as he's had to work through some tough issues. God has really helped me put it all in perspective though. I've struggled with wanting to help him steward his gifts, trying to explain the importance of listening and being respectful, and making sure he doesn’t feel all wrong or inadequate. There is honestly a careful balance for me between being enthralled with his brilliance and wit, and getting absolutely frustrated at his lack of focus and attention.

This handing my worries and fears about my kids over to God has been somewhat revolutionary with Griffen especially. It’s freed me up to see him for him. I can understand his uncommon strengths and weaknesses, and lay aside my frustrations to help him with his. And he in turn has become more secure and easier to connect with. We laugh together often, mostly at his jokes. Where there was sometimes tenseness in me and insecurity in him about his quirks, there is now a confidence.

He is exactly the kid God created him to be. And to further confirm that, here are his notes from church last week:

"Hear and obey faith is the foundation God wants us to believe him. Faith is believing no matter what. God wants us to immerse our faith in him. the book of Salma's has over 100 Iwills in it. Note to self have great battles and victory. God delivers everyone. Believe in god t'ill the end. assignment: read John. I can prophesie"

I don't even know how to explain how melted my heart was when I read that. And then last night we had this conversation:

Me: You're a smart kid, you know that Griff? Griff: Yes, actually I'm one of those people that is aware of their intelligence. Me: Well you do you know why you are so intelligent? Griff: Because I'm good at transferring information into knowledge. Me: Okay. And how do you think you're able to do that? Griff: Basic logic and quick wit. Me: Okay. And where do you think you got those? Griff: Are you trying to get me to say that you're smarter than me? Me: **Sigh** No. I'm trying to get you to acknowledge that God gave you your intelligence. Griff: Well of course He did. He gave me everything. He made me. He made everything.

I love, love, love that I get to be his mom. I love that he came to me just last week, put his arm around me and said “I’m glad I get to be your son.” I love that imperfect as we both are, we are exactly who God created us to be and becoming more so all the time.

February 25, 2011

She was born with a tiara, that’s what I say about my Emmy. She is maybe the girliest girl in the whole wide world. And I have no idea where she got it from. I was more like Grace when I was little, always Going! And Doing! And I certainly wasn’t girly; I spent my childhood wearing the knees out of my jeans and my teenage years in giant hoodies.

She is not me though, thank goodness, she is very much herself. And she is wonderful, magnificent really at just Being. She is calm, quiet, shy, and princessy. She is creative, patient, loving and expressive, and she is a dreamer. For two hours she sat at my feet the other day, creating cards, trinkets and love notes. Mostly silent, with nothing but paper, scissors a pencil and some glue, she poured herself into making things for other people. Taking her time, with her heart and hands, she put Love and words on paper. She is such a giver.

She inspires me. My little Princess has taught me so much about what it means to be a girl. She exudes femininity. She inherently knows how to just be herself, and just be loved. She honors her own beauty, posses it really. And she honors mine. With slight glances, hinted grins and love notes, she gives out a beautiful sweetness and light that I am still learning about.

I think I could wax poetic all day about patience and beauty and creating and pouring oneself out. I could go all metaphorical about the window and mirror that she is. I could list endlessly the ways she has blessed me, write pages of what she has taught me. Instead I will just say- Thank you Emma, for being you.

February 24, 2011

A good cry, an ugly cry was sneaking up on me. There was a little lump in my throat, small tear here and there, and deep sighs galore. So I got my jammies on, got a glass of water and went to brush my teeth. And then I turned towards my bed, saw the place where I wanted to land and fell into it. I lay there, toothbrush in hand, sobbing, choking on toothpaste and tears.

Carrying around my whole entire world has kind of been my thing. I’ve learned to set it down now, thank goodness. It used to chase me around, the responsibility of it all, begging to be held. And sometimes it seemed easier to pick it up, sling it on my hip, or throw it over my shoulders than to keep telling it to go. The thing is, I knew it so well, if I did pick it up I’d forget I was toting it around until I noticed the pain in my back. So learning to give it up, practicing giving it up, has been good.

Responsibility is a good thing to carry sometimes I know, but it weighs me down when I let it. If I’m not careful, every hard thing around me will climb onto my back. Not a welcomed burden at all, familiar though. I recognize now more quickly than I did in the past when the heaviness sets in. I’ve become accustomed to handing things over to Him. I've learned to love the feel of walking a little lighter, a little taller. I held onto this lie for so long though, believing that I was in charge of holding the world, my world at least together.

Up until sometime last year, I thought that every bad thing that’s ever happened to me and people around me was my fault. All the big and small things that have torn, cut and broken, only happened because I caused them to. More precisely I thought that they happened because there was something awful in me that called out to evil. Little-Me, Teenage-Me, Grown-up-Me too, we all thought we were covered in the shame of our wrongs and wrongs done to us. I thought the visibility of it left me marked forever with depravity, a glowing target for Badness. And let me tell you, that’s quite a cumbersome load to bear. Also, it's quite a lie to denounce.

Oh and before I found all thisFreedom, pain of all kinds from all different places felt like it was mine to carry. If I found hurt sitting on a friend, I would take it. If they resisted I would insist. “Let me take that for you. It’s fine; I don’t mind at all.” And it was true, I hardly knew the difference between my own grief and someone else’s; it was all the same to me. Really I thought, “What’s the use in someone else feeling hurt if I can feel it for them and they can be free of it?” Silly? Yes, but an honest glimpse into my silly self. I am wiser now though, a little. I’ve learned that all this shame and pain is not for me hold. And I am glad to let it go, Free-er for having handed it to Him.

There are these other Responsibilities though, four of them that I am carrying around. There are Four Lives that I have been entrusted with. And I am not looking to pawn them off on anyone at all. But I think maybe I am supposed to grip them less tightly, not walk around white-knuckled with anxiety. I think the worry lines in my face wouldn’t run quite so deep if I trusted Him more with them.

It’s tricky though because I understand that I am their mother and so raising them is my job. And I am honored to have that privilege. But the thing is, I’ve spent so much of the past couple of years feeling like I have to be their Everything. I feel like I have to be Mother and Father. I’ve felt mostly… oh geez, fine, I will tell you what I told Him last night- I felt both incapable of being their Everything and unwilling to fully entrust them to Him all at the same time.

Mostly I think I do an okay job. But then sometimes I think, they deserve better than ok. I think they deserve amazing, and some days I am just too tired to be amazing. I think they deserve the best Mom in the whole world, and I try to be that but fall short on a regular basis. And then well, I think they deserve the best Dad in the whole world. And while on some level I get that I can’t be that for them, it hasn’t stopped me from trying. And it certainly hasn’t stopped me from hating that I couldn’t be that.

You know what I mean? Providing for, nurturing and protecting These Four outstanding human beings, physically, emotionally and spiritually, that’s kind of a lot sometimes. It’s too much really, more than I can... more than I am supposed to bear. I trust Jesus with me and my stuff. I have given over the weight of all the messiness I’ve experienced. I’ve stopped taking on other people’s pain. But giving Him complete control means letting Him be in control of Our Life. Last night I realized- I hang on to this fear that they won’t have Enough because I can’t be Enough. It’s a lie born out of a lie and I’m done with it.

I’ve worn myself out the last few weeks. They’ve had to deal with some big things and in the midst of dealing with my own big things, I’ve tried to help them. My attempts at being Mom and Dad of the Year have left me all kinds of exhausted. I’ve beat myself up when I’ve fallen short and I’ve put off dealing with my own stuff in favor of distraction and self loathing. And that’s wrong. So I’m going to stop it.

I am not supposed to be their Everything. He is supposed to be their Everything, just like He is mine. And the best thing I can do for them is to teach them that. And the best way to teach them that is by letting Him have more of me and in turn, letting Him have more of them. I am supposed to be their mother. And I think maybe I’ll be a much better mother if I let go of the other stuff. Worrying, struggling and beating myself up are nothing but distractions from what I should be doing. They are excuses really to blame myself and start the whole cycle over again.

So last night, in my bed, curled up in tears, messy and tired, I gave up. I confessed all this crap. I asked Him for help with this load. And that He would help me understand more and more, the difference between my job and His job. I held out my hands, let go of the protection and control that I had been gripping so tightly. I asked for forgiveness and received His Love. And this morning, rainy though it was, seemed much more hopeful. And now the sun is out, so that’s good.

February 21, 2011

Divorce sucks; I know. I think Elizabeth Gilbert put it best when she said “it’s like being in a really bad car accident every single day for about two years.” It nearly killed me multiple times. I have come through it though, by the Grace of God and with the help of my Amazing Friends. (Holy cow it took so much for me to get here, and even more for me to have enough perspective to actually write about it), but I feel like I can safely say- Though I never wanted to be divorced, there is no part of me that wants that marriage.

To spare you all the gory details I will just say it was a long, horrid end to a sometimes super shallow, occasionally heartbreakingly beautiful relationship. We were a dangerous mix of passionately devoted high school sweethearts and outrageously reckless enemies. It was an all too addicting cycle of rage and immature love. We became each others idols, and though I would never in a million years recommend divorce, breaking out of that cycle was the best thing I’ve ever done.

You should know this guy was the first person I ever perceived to love me selflessly. I’ve said before that my heart has known that Jesus loves me since I was itty bitty and this is true; God’s love and grace carried and covered little me through many terrible circumstances. My crappy childhood though, left me believing that humans were incapable of loving me. When this guy loved me, well I placed my entire world in his hands. And he was only a sixteen year old boy at the time, and I a fifteen year old girl. And so the most codependent relationship in the world was born. And then it died. (Which is for the best, trust me. Also, the actual reason behind the divorce is really a small detail in the story; and I feel it totally unnecessary to justify this decision to the world, so I will leave it out.)

Having made it to the other side of this mess though, I thought I would share a little about how I got here, (hopefully you can follow along with my mostly neurotic explanation)-

I’ve talked to you about my Inner Voice before. She’s not the brightest Inner Voice, a little harsh, a little judgmental, but she’s what I got. I’m working on softening her and have learned to take her to God, thank goodness. But a lot of my conversations (with myself) in the first couple of months went like this:

Inner Voice: Well, I guess you will just have to give up on men. All they do is hurt you. As a matter of fact I am pretty sure that is all they are good for. Me: What?! No! I love men.Inner Voice: Okay dummy. They do not love you; they just want to sleep with you and hurt you.Me: Seriously?Inner Voice: Yep, look (queue long memory reel of guys who have done their best to prove this point to me)Me: Crap. You’re right. Now what?Inner Voice: Stay away from them completely. Me: Ugh. That does not sound awesome at all.Inner Voice: What’s your other option?Me: Get crushed again?Inner Voice: Yep. Also, the father of your children? Everything he ever did or said was evil. Me: What?! What about the good stuff?Inner Voice: It was all wrong.Me: (deep sigh) Okay, I guess you’re right.

Maybe I am the only one who has had this sort of experience with divorce, but I think maybe not. I will say this, I do love men, for many, many reasons. And I do have a few good ones in my life. So (with help from God, friends and counseling) I worked out a plan to convince myself not to totally shut down towards every male in the universe. I spent time with Jesus on a regular basis, and I intentionally spent time with the great men that God put in my life. It was extremely helpful to experience safety and love in a male context while going through separation and divorce.

But I couldn’t shake the idea that the first person to ever selflessly love me was wrong and everything he ever did or said was wrong. Honestly, it wrecked me daily. It proved my twelve year old self right and took me back to thinking I was totally unlovable. If the one person who made me feel loved had decided he hated me, then all hope was lost. If everything he said and did was wrong then all the kindness and affirmation I got from him was wrong, and all the truths that he spoke about my heart, hands, mind, eyes, smile and everything else were wrong.

Also, if everything was wrong, then because I had given him authority to shape and therefore destroy my identity, it was going to have to be rebuilt from scratch. The hard thing about that was, it’s hard to see the truth about yourself when you are feeling awful all the time and your identity is twisted and misshapen. If you hand somebody your whole world and they say in a loving embrace, “You are so breathtakingly gorgeous, and the way you mother is so tender and good it touches my soul”, and then in a frenzied blowup they say, “You are wretched and I hate everything about you from your body to your words, especially your words”, well, let’s just say it gets a little confusing.

God was going to have to tell me about my value and worth; that was my only hope. And I was going to have to let Him; it was the best option I could come up with. So on a daily basis, sometimes mentally and sometimes on paper, God and I made a list. He pointed things out and helped me separate facts from falsehoods. Almost in spreadsheet form, He helped me discover truths. “You are beautiful inside and out.” “You are worthy of more than just sex.” “Don’t shut down to everyone. Don’t shut down to men. Don’t shut down to intimacy.” “Your body is my dwelling place, take care of it, but it’s not about being skinny.” “Your mind and words are a gift, but they can be misused.” “I gave you these children because you are the best mother for them, not perfect, but chosen.” I meditated, journaled, prayed, grieved and rejoiced. On and on He pursued me, spoke to me and answered question after question with Love.

One truth at a time, through reading the Bible, spending time with Him, listening and agreeing, I came to understand who I was in Him. Together we sorted things out. Tricky business, and I am not professing to have it all figured out, but I am much clearer on Him and me than I was.

Sure it would have been best if I hadn’t let that guy define me, I know. I understand the importance of not letting people shape my identity now, hindsight is twenty twenty and all that jazz. And certainly there were many other things that helped me work out this complicated mess. Every helpful step that was made though was a step towards Him. I’m not saying that I made all the right steps at all. I fell a few times for sure, ran in the opposite direction more than once, but I always came back to Him because nothing else ever came close to His words. It was all very “Redeeming Love” really.

The whole process was so tough, exhausting sometimes, but so much more than worth it. And now that I have made it through and have a little perspective, I am ever so grateful that He allowed me to come to Him and work all this out. I’m glad for the opportunity to spend time with Him and learn from Him. I understand that I am still in process, hope to forever be. And I'm happy to have Him tell me who I am all the time. Thankful that He is willing to sit with me, talk to me help, me heal and Love me.

A man that I respect very much grabbed me by the arm a couple of weeks ago. He looked me in the eyes and said affirming things to me. It was a kind of revolutionary, just some more redemption I guess. My experience has not been that being snatched up by a man generally leads to hearing kind things. That is exactly what he did though. And thankfully I was smart enough to stand there and let him, I even glanced up at him occasionally. I don’t know that that would have been the case if God had not already been graciously, tenderly, mercifully sowing seeds in me. It was a testament to the Freedom I have received for sure. It was a confirmation of His Love at work in my life.

Anyway I say all this to say- He is ready, willing, wanting to do the same thing with You. And I highly recommend letting Him.

February 18, 2011

(Note: This is a most incomplete thought, and only about a tenth of what I have written on this subject in the last two days...trust me, much more to come...)

I kind of hate my smile, true story. Check my profile pics, you won’t find a toothy grin I promise. The tricky thing is, in real life people don’t just rummage through my Facebook page- they see me. The other tricky thing is, I laugh a lot. And I laugh big and loud; I can’t help it. And so, my smile is mostly all over the place and there is nothing I can do about it. Tricky thing number three, I discount my beauty because of it.

Griff said something funny the other day, as he does. I laughed and then Gabe, my Sweet One said “Mom, your teeth are big.” I replied with a sarcastic little “Thanks buddy.” It wasn’t that my feelings were hurt, it was more of a mocking little acknowledgement that I was right. It was a nod to my own silly notion that my big giant, eye hiding, face swallowing, big teeth baring smile somehow made me less beautiful. He cocked his head to the side and then, my eight year old boy, my Sweet One, grabbed my face in both of his hands and got very close to me and said “You. Are a beautiful woman.” And he meant it with all of him; I could feel it. He wasn't discounting my beauty and didn't want me to either. What a gift.

How often do we disqualify our beauty like that though? I can not tell you how many times I have sat with a woman while she looked through her photos and criticized herself. I have heard the most outrageously gorgeous women tear themselves apart. I’ve done it too, I’m too fat, too thin, my ears look funny with my hair like that… I’ve said it all. But really, can we stop this? I mean, it’s pointless.

Look, I am going to try to love my smile a little more. Actually, for a couple reasons, I am going to just go right ahead and believe that I am beautiful.

First- because Gabe Sees well and he speaks the truth. I recognize this gift in him and it is beyond important to me to call out the greatness I see in my kiddos. He is blessed with vision and the ability to speak honestly with boldness, and I want to encourage him to do that as often as possible.

Also, I’m believing because I want to. Honestly, who doesn’t want to have their face taken in and told they are beautiful? When I tell my girls, (and fyi, I try to throw in smart, funny and brave just as often as I say beautiful), they do not hesitate to agree. Never has Emmy said, “Oh, but my hair looks awful today.” And Grace has certainly never given pause to the thought that she is anything but wonderfully radiant. I hate that we lose the ability to see ourselves as the lovely creations we are. The truth is, regardless of your perceived “flaws” (I hate that word), you were created in the image of God and you are amazingly captivating.

I’m not going to ask some cliché questions like “When do we stop believing people when they tell us we are beautiful?” I am aware of all the ways that we can become jaded, all the lies that are thrown at us, and all the imperfections that these damn magnifying mirrors draw out. And hey, shout out to all the females who do believe. But man, I so wish I could make every woman believe. Goodness, I so want to figure out a way to help us all love ourselves a little more… I’m not going to name any names, but Lady, Friend, Sister, Girl, Woman- You. Are beautiful.

February 16, 2011

(Word of warning: this is mushy and gushy and lovey dovey, and there is almost no point to it except to express my absolute, unending adoration for Him and His sweet kisses. Also, no pictures again, because this is not about me and it is also not some nature/tree metaphor. This is about Him and how amazing He is.)

Kisses, how I love them… even typing the word is fun. I wrote this poem the other day in a little moment of wanting… Valentines Day and all that jazz…

This subject keeps coming up though. A friend of mine did exclaim the other day while eating an especially scrumptious treat “I think me and God just had a little mini make-out session.” Another friend wrote on someone’s Facebook wall, “Like kisses from heaven this season and you are to my life.”

And then there is this line in one of my favorite songs that keeps getting changed up- “And Heaven meets earth like a… some kind of… kiss”. Some versions say sloppy wet, some say passionate, one says unforeseen. I like passionate best, but it still falls short…

Can we talk about kisses from heaven? Is that cool? Can we talk about what amazing treats they are? Am I gonna lose you if I go all sensual about God? Am I allowed to say He is the realest thing I know, and sometimes when He expresses His love generously, as He is known to do, in quiet moments, with softness and grace, it not only suppresses, but fulfills every earthly desire I have. And sometimes, He just absolutely melts me. I’m not going to play out the whole intimacy metaphor here, but this kiss thing, I gotta get it out. I will do my best not to get all Lover of my soul with you, I’ll save that for another time; I’m going to try to keep it to just kisses… And I’m going to try to explain these kisses without using metaphors and quotation marks because they are so much more than real.

How do I begin really? How do you explain what a kiss is? This meeting of lips, sometimes parting of lips, declaration of True Love, most intimate of expressions… I will spare you all the little adjectives, (for now), and just say- He relates to me this way. (And I am ever so glad that He does.) In my house, in my room, cup, Bible, pen, journal, mascara or blanket in hand- He comes in, and whispers, breathes, sees, holds and ::sigh:: kisses me. You still with me? Know what I mean? Raise your hand out there if you’ve ever experienced one of these passionate, sloppy wet, unforeseen moments with Him. Goodness it is wonderful. Maybe you have no idea what I’m talking about, maybe you don’t even want to relate to God this way- Oh but you should. I’m telling you, its bliss.

Do you know that moment in a kiss, a good kiss, when you get lost? That brief span of time when you’re eyes are closed and you aren’t even paying attention to what you’re doing anymore, you’re just there, unaware of the whole rest of the world, caught up in (oh look here come all of those adjectives I was trying to spare you of), warmth, softness, sweetness, breath, movement… all doing their things, and you’re just along for the ride?

God can do that; He does. I have been lost completely in His presence, surrounded by all of those things. I have been mesmerized by His closeness. I have been kissed by Him. Not that lusty kissing; not that handsy mess of wanting. I’m talking about a knowing, giving kissing, that ILOVEYOUSOMUCH! Let me show you right now LOVELOVELOVE!!! kind of kissing.

Look, analogies aside, because He is the realest thing I know- On dark nights, on bright afternoons, with light and words, and ground and sky, He has held me tightly, in the tenderest hands, leaned in close and breathed right into my being. In packed rooms, in my car, while I cried, while I smiled, He has pulled me close, touched my face and infused me with Love.

And now… well, nothing else will do really. And isn’t that the point? ::sigh again::